


The Fortunate Hour

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [62]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Explicit Sex, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Spring is coming to an end, and Persephone can finally go home. This is the last chapter of the Talisman story (barring epilogues).
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [62]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 30
Kudos: 216





	The Fortunate Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Previously in this series: 
> 
> Persephone and Hades are in love, married, and expecting a child. Through long struggles Persephone has reconciled with Demeter.

I'm chopping vegetables for tonight’s moussaka when Demeter walks in from outside. She’s been managing to treat me with reasonable politeness lately, but there’s no question where her priorities are. 

“Where's Persephone?” she asks.

“Taking a nap. She had a rough night, lots of nightmares and nausea.”

“Are you sure she's all right?”

“Eileithyia checked her yesterday. She's fine.”

“Maybe I should go.”

“No, stay. Do you want something to drink?”

“I don't want to upset her.”

“You won't. Stay.”

The green goddess sits down on a stool at the island counter and watches me while I pour some lemonade. She picks up the glass and stares at it rather than meet my eye.

“I have to admit, I continue to be astonished by your generosity,” Demeter says. “In your position, I don’t think I could be so gracious.” Rather than smiling as part of this flattery, she just looks sad.

I’m not sure what to say. I think the difference in our attitudes is because I fundamentally see Persephone as a powerful, self-sufficient goddess: an adult. Demeter sees her as her baby. I would point that out, and maybe rub it in, but I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about becoming a parent, and what that’s going to do to me.

“I think you could,” I tell her as I dump vegetables into the pan to start cooking. “It’s all about what Persephone wants. I meant it when I said I want her to be happy.”

Demeter frowns. “You don’t feel any resentment about that? Having to conform to someone else’s wishes?”

I think that over. “No. I can see her point. If I had a chance to maintain a real relationship with my mother, I would want that too.”

She nods slowly. “Yes. I feel the same.”

We hear the sounds of excited dogs and turn to the hall. In a minute, Persephone comes in, wearing a tank top and a pair of my boxers. The gentle curve of her belly peeks out from under her rucked-up shirt. She stands in the doorway arch looking bleary and rubbing her eyes. The dogs scamper around her feet, begging for attention.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, knowing the answer already.

She nods, looking unhappy. “Could you get me some ginger ale?”

I go to get it while Persephone greets her mother and sits down by her side at the counter. I pour the soda and put a slice of lemon cake on a plate. It should be mild enough to soothe her stomach.

Persephone sips her soda and picks at the cake while Demeter and I watch her anxiously. I can see that the nausea hasn’t gone away. I feel terrible about this but when I express my guilt it just upsets her.

“Are you all right, darling?” Demeter asks. “You look pale.”

She does, though I know better than to point it out. Demeter hasn’t experienced the full array of Persephone’s pregnancy moods yet. I fold my arms and stay out of this.

“That happens when I barf a lot. Did you get like this too?” Persephone says. “Most days as long as I eat I’m fine, but once in a while…” She waves a hand vaguely and rests her forehead in her other palm. 

Demeter looks surprised. “Yes. I remember trying everything and some days were just miserable.”

“How about some ice chips?” I say. Eileithyia suggested this as a nausea remedy. I made a batch yesterday but Persephone hasn’t tried it yet.

“Okay.” She sounds unenthusiastic but willing to humor me. I scoop a bowlful of ice from the freezer and give it to her with a spoon. “Thank you, Hades,” she says, with a little emphasis on my name. She rarely calls me Smush in front of anyone else. I wouldn’t mind, but if Persephone wants it to be special between us, I can’t argue.

I give her a smile and return to my cooking. The smell is mouthwatering to me but I know strong scents can affect pregnant women differently. I suppose if it bothered her, Persephone could go sit outside. 

After a few rounds of ice, she tries some ginger ale and then some cake. Even from the corner of my eye I can see she’s perking up. She has a particular tension that descends when her stomach is miserable, and it’s melting away. 

Demeter still fusses over her. “Should you be eating all that sugar, little bean? What about some nice cereal to settle your tummy?”

“I tried that earlier. Didn’t go so well.” 

I remember exactly how well that didn’t go. I put on a light tone and try to distract Demeter. “She’s basically a honeybee, haven’t you noticed? Barring the stripes and wings.”

Our visitor frowns slightly at my attempted deflection, but she’s sensitive enough to change the subject. “Can we discuss this new midsummer festival?” 

I myself am not altogether thrilled with the plans. Well, except that at the end, Persephone gets to come home to the Underworld with me. That part has my full approval. On the other hand, Demeter's tone of concern sets my teeth on edge.

“What’s to discuss, Mother?” Persephone says briskly. “Most of it is what the priestesses and Iakchos negotiated.”

“Yes, but this, um, fertility rite?”

“Gaia said so,” Persephone replies. Flat and final. She’s accepting no negotiation, just as when she told me about it.

Demeter apparently recognizes a lost cause when she sees one. “Well…why don’t you both come for dinner at my house? Next week?” 

We’ve been expecting an offer like this, so Persephone smiles. “Of course, Mama. We’d love to come. Can we bring something?”

“No, no. There’s no need. Oh, um, can you stand eating vegetarian for one meal?” 

“No problem,” Persephone says. “I don’t eat all that much meat.”

A blatant lie; she devours protein at every opportunity. Fortunately Demeter is wise enough to depart before our dinner is ready, and doesn’t have to watch Persephone enjoying the tasty lamb dish I made for her.

***

Saturday morning, we have an entire day of unstructured together time to look forward to. After breakfast I spend a while rubbing lotion into Persephone’s belly. As she grows she gets very itchy, so we’ve started this daily habit to help with that. 

She could do it herself more efficiently, but we both enjoy the process. I like staying in touch with our baby’s growth, and it’s relaxing for Persephone. Today she’s returning the favor, massaging my neck and shoulders while I rub coat after coat of lotion into her skin. The natural smell of her skin combines wonderfully with the scent of the lotion, honey and vanilla, and it's quite delightful. That combination is imprinting on my brain, unlocking the doors to comfort and tenderness.

“I think you have an ulterior motive, Smush,” she says, gently teasing.

“Definitely. Have you noticed how soft my hands are lately?” 

“I actually did notice my husband’s wonderfully soft hands, strangely enough.” She leans forward to brush a kiss on my temple.

“If anyone has an ulterior motive here, it’s you, sexy naked goddess.” 

She’s right, though, I do have another motive, although it’s not the one she’s implying. Persephone is approaching the point of her pregnancy when she should start feeling the baby move. It’s optimistic of me to hope that I’ll be able to feel movement from the outside so soon, but I’m anxious to have that connection with our child. 

Our  _ son _ . Gaia told Persephone our child is a boy. Knowing this detail helps make the child feel more real, at least in terms of the picture in my head. I want the physical, too. The touch of my son: growing, safe and secure in his mother’s womb.

I don’t stop rubbing lotion even as my mind wanders, but Persephone knows me very well. Her fingers brush my cheek. “What does that thoughtful face mean?” she asks. “I ate the whole breakfast you made, so you can’t be mad about that.”

Her tone makes me chuckle. “No, I’m just thinking about how long I’ve wanted all this. You, and being this happy, and the baby.”

“Our son.”

“Exactly. You’re quite the mind reader, Kore.”

“Not at all, you’re just completely transparent.”

I grin as I finish with the last of the lotion. “Only for you.”

We spend most of the morning swimming and playing with the dogs. I’m pleased that Persephone hasn’t had another bout of nausea since the day of her mother’s visit. It’s getting less frequent, and ought to be coming to a stop. She’s a couple weeks into the second trimester; the books and Eileithyia agree that this is the most comfortable part of pregnancy. 

In the early evening, we receive a steady stream of visitors. People formed the habit of keeping company with Persephone during her lonely exile, and they’ve resumed now that it’s clear that Eleusis is an ancillary court of the Underworld. 

Many are dear friends, some merely curious. I don’t mind as long as they don’t show up every night, but they tend to keep a schedule of about once a week. It’s a pleasure to see Persephone enjoying herself, and I’m petty enough to be gratified by showing off our happiness to certain people who sneered at me for centuries.

Persephone’s cyclops friend drops by with a platter of pastries and the news that his planned new restaurant will be opening in the Underworld very soon. She insisted we invest in this business and therefore takes an interest in the progress. Acmonides sits down with her and describes all the details. He wants to open in time for the last day of Spring. I give him a slight frown over her head. Persephone is not really aware of the scope of the plans for celebrating the Queen’s return. I’d like to keep it a surprise.

When my niece Athena arrives, she’s carrying a wrapped package. She offers this to Persephone with a smile. “I made this for you, Auntie,” she says. “It’s to thank you for all you did in bringing Mithras into the world.”

Hearing the name of Olympus’s latest hero, all conversations stop. Everyone wants to hear what Athena will say about her son. Sort-of son. Foster son? I don’t know what she's calling him.

“That’s so kind of you!” Persephone says. She unwraps the package to find a length of shimmering cloth, silky and silvery-gold, so gossamer it almost seems to float. Its bright fibers reflect the colors of the setting sun. Persephone spreads it out to reveal that it’s a cloak cut to her size. She swirls it over her shoulders and it drapes her form in long falls of lustrous cloth.

“Holy crap, that’s gorgeous!” Eros says. “Where did you get that cloth?”

“Don’t be silly, she wove it herself,” Persephone says. “It’s exquisite. Thank you, Athena.”

“It’s my pleasure. Hephaestus gave you his gift a while ago, and I understand Gaia gave you something in thanks as well.”

“Yes,” Persephone replies. She doesn’t say anything further about the small pink crystal Gaia gave to her. It’s long since been used up in securing my brother’s goodwill. Gaia also lent Persephone some extra energy in their recent encounter, which she used to help fight the monsters. My grandmother also gave instructions for an outrageous new ritual, but I’m done complaining about that.

“How is the bull slayer settling in?” Psyche asks Athena.

My niece’s face lights up. “Oh, he’s doing very well! Staying with Hephaestus for now, but visiting Olympus most days. He’s so curious and eager to learn!”

Everyone leans in to hear more. The young god made quite an impression right from the day of his birth. I sit down with Persephone to listen to the stories, but I’m not paying much attention. I’m thinking about the day when our son will be born. Sometime in the late Autumn, I understand. My wife will be home, in her rightful place as Queen. I can’t quite picture what it will be like to hold our son, to see him at Persephone’s breast. It’s surreal, imagining this future. Having a child is a goal I barely ever permitted myself to contemplate.

Listening to my niece gush on and on about the son she now has, albeit in an atypical way, forces me to realize that I’ve been allowing the past to determine my destiny for far too long. Athena and Hephaestus didn’t let tradition and conventionality rule their prospects. I can only hope the son they’ve produced will continue to bring them such pride.

A while later, as people are clearing out, Hecate arrives. She sits down to speak to us, taking the last of the pastries from Acmonides’s platter. 

“So, I have some news,” she says.

“Great, I just love that phrasing.” 

“Not ominous at all,” Persephone says.

Hecate rolls her eyes. “Not everything new is bad. Some are just chaotic.”

“Again, not reassuring,” I say.

“Whatever. I’ve been researching those flaming bulls, and where they came from.”

Persephone and I exchange a guilty look. Neither of us had really given the monsters’ origins a second thought after their destruction. “Go on.”

“My sorcerers tell me there’s some evidence that one of their kind brought them about. No one can specify who, though.”

“The earliest signs I know of were near Colchis,” Persephone says. “Does that suggest anything?”

“Perhaps. I don’t know of any sorcerers in Colchis, but if one is trying to keep a low profile…that would be interesting,” Hecate says.

“All of this is standard mortal nonsense. I agree it would be better if the perpetrator were caught and punished,” I say. “Any idea what their goal was?”

Hecate shrugs. “Given the bulls’ behavior, something to do with volcanoes? I’m not sure they were deliberately trying to free more monsters, or if that was just a side effect.”

“Well, whatever it is, if the sorcerer tries to release more  _ khalkotauroi, _ I think Mithras would be more than happy to deal with it,” Persephone says. “He has an urge to prove himself, and as a fellow Spring deity I will do all I can to support him.”

“His powers relate to Spring?” Hecate asks.

“More or less. Rebirth and renewal, as far as I can tell.”

“Hmm. I wonder if that suggests the sorcerer is associated with the opposite,” Hecate muses.

Persephone naturally does not fall into the logical trap most people do by suggesting the opposite of rebirth is death. “Destruction? Annihilation?” she says, frowning. “That’s a rather foolish goal for a mortal.”

“They’re not exactly known for wisdom,” I put in.

The three of us brood for a few minutes over the possibility of a deranged sorcerer creating monsters for unknown purposes. After a while we decide the problem can’t be solved with the information on hand.

“Well, I’ll keep my ear to the ground,” Hecate says. “You never know what will turn up.”

***

When the appointed night for dinner at Demeter’s house arrives, we show up early so Persephone can fetch some things from her old room. There’s no one in the courtyard, but she enters the house confidently, pointing out features and telling me stories about them. At the bottom of the stairs, though, she stops and smirks at me.

“I’m not allowed to take boys upstairs,” she says. Tilting her head, practically demanding that I tease her back.

I can’t resist her in this mood. “How fortunate there aren’t any boys present.” 

She giggles, looking nervous and playful. “Ha, okay, but no funny business!”

“None? Not even a little?”

Putting on a pensive expression, she taps her chin as if considering. “Mmm. Four kisses.”

“Ten!”

“Six and a butt grab.”

“Ooh, I  _ do _ like your butt grabs. Do the kisses include tongue?”

“Of course!” She leans in and gives me a little sample: a quick, wet kiss on the corner of my mouth.

“Well then, you’ve got a deal.”

She takes my hand and leads me up the wide stairs to a dim corridor. We find ourselves in a bright room painted blue and decorated with many artifacts of the natural world. I’ve been here once before, when all of us were out searching for Persephone. Only days before we were married.

Persephone begins packing items while I look over her built-in shelves. One entire section is devoted to trophies and medals, framed certificates and photos. All of the pictures show a petite, pink goddess, younger and less confident, her smile tense with the need to meet the expectations placed upon her. I don’t make any comments. I know by now the mixed feelings she has about her academic achievements and the pressure she was under.

I look up to find Persephone staring at me, an odd expression on her face. “What’s wrong, Sweetness?” I don’t call her Kore. Not here.

“Nothing. It’s just an odd experience being back in my old room, but with you here.”

“We met in this house. Technically.”

She approaches to wrap her arms around me. “I remember very well. I think back on that night frequently, and how I was trying so hard to be good according to the standards I was taught, all the while I was frantic to find my true place in the world.”

I lean down to kiss her, very soft and undemanding. “You are always good, by your own excellent standards.”

She seems to like that, and returns another kiss, deeper this time. “I never could have let myself imagine this moment back then. I wouldn’t have dared to hope for so much.”

“Me neither.”

Persephone chuckles and shakes her head. “Come on, let’s go see that room where we met.”

I have no objections, though I do wonder if Demeter’s going to catch us being…well, what? Sentimental? She’d interpret all this as something lewd, but I firmly reject my misgivings. What does it matter if she does catch us? We’re married.

Persephone leads me by the hand through several turns of the corridor. The guest wing is a long way from the bower meant to shelter a young goddess, the daughter of the house. The room we enter doesn’t feel familiar from personal experience. I saw it again on the tape given me by the Fates, but I have no direct memory of that night. I will regret that fact forever.

It’s a well-appointed guest room, bright and elegant with fabrics and furnishings. Persephone looks around, grinning with mischief. “You were sitting right here,” she says, nudging me to occupy the foot of the bed. “I was convinced you were Hecate’s lover, but I was so curious I barged right in.”

“I was a complete idiot, is what I was.”

“No, you weren’t.” She stands between my knees, cupping my face in both her hands. “You were drunk and relaxed. And the sexiest man I’d ever seen.” 

“That’s not saying much, Miss Raised-in-Isolation.”

“You hush, it’s still true.”

The kiss she gives me has considerable heat behind it, leaving me to wonder about her intentions. Am I about to receive a great deal more than six kisses and a butt grab? My arms slide around her as her tongue strokes mine, sweetly encroaching on territory neither of us imagined the last time we were in this room.

“I was very lucky not to offend you so terribly you never wanted to see me again,” I say.

“You were so funny and gallant! I didn’t think you were serious, but I’ve often daydreamed about what would have happened if I just said yes. Run off with you then and there.”

“Chaos and confusion. Recriminations and accusations.”

“No doubt. But a lot more kisses, too.” Her lips settle to mine again, and this time she sits down in my lap. “I never really gave you an answer, did I? Maybe we should try a do-over.”

I laugh as she kisses me once more, her fingers sliding under my chiton to tease bare skin. “All right, then. Splendid, glorious goddess I totally just met, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Oh sir! This is so unexpected!” Persephone really hams it up, leaning away from me with her hand to her chest, her eyes wide with feigned shock. 

“Is it really?” I nuzzle the hollow of her throat and notice she’s wearing the gold pomegranate pendant I gave her. “I think you must know how captivating you are, little goddess. Surely men fall at your feet on a daily basis.”

“Never one of your caliber,” she says, twining her fingers in my hair. “I am inclined to accept your proposal.”

“But you’re not certain. What can I do to convince you?”

“Hm…they say it’s not wise to buy a horse without giving it a try first. Seems like that might sway me.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to offer such concessions to a party who hasn’t yet fulfilled her last agreement.”

There’s a pause and I can see the wheels turning as Persephone plays back in her head the time since we ascended the stairs. “I  _ do _ still owe you a butt grab,” she says cautiously.

“And another kiss.”

“No, sir! Three in here, two in my room, and the one downstairs.”

“That one doesn't count, I hadn’t agreed yet.”

She’s prepared to object on the basis of accurate accounting, but my tactic surprises her. “Oh. If I deliver my contract, are you willing to give me a trial run?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Does that door lock?”

***

Persephone possesses a wide variety of tricks for getting around her mother’s house unobserved, even without relying on her powers. This shouldn’t surprise me, but I file the fact away for future use. When we present ourselves to Demeter, I’m carrying the carton of books and mementoes. Persephone looks as sweet as a new dawn, a complete change from the lusty goddess putting me through my paces only a short time ago.

“There you are!” Demeter calls cheerily as we enter the kitchen.

She sets down the knife she’s using and picks up a towel to wipe her hands before giving Persephone a welcoming hug. I put down the box in time to receive a cordial nod.

“I like the new carpet in the foyer, Mama,” Persephone says. “It brightens the space nicely. You’re going to need a real vacuum cleaner to keep it clean, though.”

“Maybe that sort of progress wouldn’t be so bad.” Demeter shrugs and returns to her preparation, dropping vegetables into a giant bowl of salad.

Persephone picks up a spoon and stirs the pot bubbling on the stove, comfortable enough in her mother’s kitchen that she doesn’t need to ask. I lean against a counter to keep out of the way, aware that I’m in an awkward zone between being family and being an unwanted guest. I trust my wife won’t permit me to be marginalized, but my role here is still delicate. 

I watch and listen to the easy flow of conversation and task-sharing between mother and daughter. They have a long history of affection and mutual consideration to draw on in helping them find a new balance. Demeter is clearly being careful with boundaries and tone. I’m pleased to see it.

“I take it we’re eating here and not in the dining hall with the nymphs?” Persephone asks. There’s a round table in the corner of the kitchen, next to some wide windows looking out into the courtyard.

“I assumed so, but whatever you want, darling.”

“The dining hall gets pretty noisy.”

“That’s what I thought,” Demeter says. “Hades, will you set the table?” She points me to the location of the dishes and things. I get to it, glad to be entrusted with a task. Maybe she really will accept me as family. Someday.

We all sit down to eat. Demeter politely asks after Persephone and the baby’s wellbeing but doesn’t stray into intrusive quizzing. She even engages me by asking some follow-up questions about the monster incident a few weeks ago. I’m impressed with her self-control, as well as with the dinner. There’s soup, salad, and bread along with a savory vegetable-barley casserole. Nothing that would win any culinary awards, but tasty and satisfying.

“Have you seen Arion again?” Persephone asks. She’s trying to move the conversation out of our court and into Demeter’s, I think.

“Yes, but so briefly. I know he needs time and his tolerance is limited. It’s frustrating, though.”

“You should make him a carrot cake,” I say. “He loves that.”

Persephone laughs. “It’s true, he has a big sweet tooth. He loves your recipe, too. I’ve made it for him a few times now.”

Demeter thanks us both with obvious gratitude, as if we’ve just handed her the key to a treasure. I suppose in a way we have, by showing that we support her efforts at reconciliation. 

We all chat for a while on light topics until Demeter works her way back to what really concerns her: Persephone’s imminent return to the Underworld.

“Both of you have said I would be permitted to visit. Did you mean it?”

“We did, Mama,” Persephone says. “You’re my family. I want to see you often.”

“Sorry about the lack of sunlight, but at least we have plenty of room for you,” I say. “I’m sure you’ll want to come stay when the baby’s born.”

“I...yes, I would like that. I assumed I’d have to beg for that privilege.”

“No. You’ll have to cope with eight dogs in the house, though,” Persephone answers.

“Or nine.” I grin, reminding Persephone of our promised new puppy.

Demeter looks only slightly alarmed. “I’ll manage. I promise, I’ll be as helpful as I possibly can.” She encourages us both to take more food and beams when Persephone accepts another serving of the casserole. “So the big event is next week already. The solstice, I mean.” Demeter makes a brave try at a cheerful tone. “You must be excited.”

“I am,” Persephone says. She flashes a huge smile and doesn’t say that what she’s happiest about is going home, but that’s what she tells me in private. “I hear it’s been a long time since a new festival got started.”

I wouldn’t really know about Mortal Realm festivals, but I suppose it’s true that new ones don’t come out of nowhere very often.

“You deserve it, darling,” Demeter says. “You’ve thoroughly demonstrated that the fertility of the Earth is so much more productive as a cycle.”

“Honestly, Mama, it’s not that much of an innovation. Everyone needs a break now and again to be fresh for their work. The Earth is no different.”

“No, it’s a very exciting idea,” Demeter says. “The mortals are inclined to treat the Earth as just another tool for them to use, like a sickle or a knife. Having Winter reminds them of what they owe to us, and that they can’t get lazy. It will mean a major adjustment but I think it’s truly the start of a new era.” She smiles nervously to see how Persephone will take that.

I have a sudden inspiration. “Because you are the bridge between one life and the next. The Bringer of Death, yes, but also the Postponer of Death.”

Persephone’s eyes widen and she draws back. “Uh…”

Demeter looks thoughtful and a touch startled. “That would seem to be true. And...I can come to terms with that, I suppose, so long as I get to see you.”

Persephone shakes her head, pushing aside the grandiose ideas Demeter and I are floating. “Mama, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your plans for Winter. What happens after I leave, I mean.”

Demeter shakes her head. “I’m ashamed of the way I acted last year. I...I got caught up in the idea that only I could save you from something...well, something I have to admit I didn’t understand.” She gazes back and forth between us. “Still, good things came of it. The data indicate that Winter every year will help boost productivity. I won’t make it as dramatic as the last one, I promise.”

Since we’ve finished eating, she begins to clear the table, and Persephone and I help.

“Mortals will be prepared this time,” I say. “All the harvest stored away before the bad weather comes.”

“Yes. That will make a big difference in their quality of life,” Demeter says.

“Athena tells me she’s actually excited about it. A fallow period in agriculture means people will have more time to concentrate on their indoor crafts,” says Persephone.

“And on the arts, I suppose,” I put in, thinking of Psyche.

“Speaking of which, I have some things for you to take home. For the baby,” Demeter says. 

“Oh, did you finish the blanket?” Persephone asks.

I didn’t know about any blanket, and I’m both startled and pleased to hear that Demeter is showing her acceptance so freely. 

“Yes, and several sweaters and hats. I’ll go get them.”

Persephone beams at me as her mother goes to fetch the items she made for our child.

***

A few days later I come home from work to find Persephone presiding over a varied group seated on the benches in our courtyard. I spot Eleithyia and Iakchos holding hands, the goddess of prosperity Annona, Hermes, Hecate, and a rust-colored god I don’t recognize. There’s a large bunch of nymphs, and most surprisingly, a nervous little clutch of mortals sitting all in a row. Two of these are Eunelia and Serapis, and the other two are middle aged, prosperous looking women dressed in green. Priestesses of Demeter, I assume.

Persephone catches sight of me and pauses in addressing the group on the plans for midsummer’s day. The audience notices her change of focus and turns to look at what distracted her. A good portion of them are further disconcerted by my presence, but I can’t say I care. I lean against the doorway and listen, affecting nonchalance.

Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m deeply interested in this festival, particularly the aspect of Persephone receiving the acclaim that is her due. I’m less delighted about the story the mortals tell about me, but I can live with it. Having dark deeds attributed to me doesn’t exactly damage my reputation, though I hate the implication that I would be willing to kidnap the goddess I adore.

She is rather more infuriated by the story than I am, but after hearing Iakchos’s proposal, she decided it made more sense to harness it than to fight it. Her voice rises and falls smoothly as she explains the schedule and everyone’s areas of responsibility down to the last detail. When she’s done, all the people in the courtyard look ready to tackle their tasks.

“Thank you for your time, everyone. I'm looking forward to seeing all of you the day after tomorrow.” She smiles at them; her posture and tone are a gentle but firm dismissal. 

I wait until the courtyard is nearly empty. Hecate is speaking with Persephone as I approach.

“And you’re sure he’s not going to balk?” Hecate says. She skewers me with her stare, making no pretense about who she means.

“I don’t foresee any difficulties,” Persephone replies, beaming with artless sincerity as she darts a glance at me. “Isn’t that right, dearest?”

“What my Queen wants, my Queen gets,” I say. A trifle sanctimonious but nonetheless true. 

Hecate gives a little smirk and a nod and takes her leave. 

I can't stop the corner of my mouth from twitching. “That presentation--”

“Oh, do you have a critique for me?” Persephone says. She turns her face up, playful as a kitten with her claws out.

“You had them all in the palm of your hand, and you know it.”

She lifts her slender hand to show me. “I hardly think so. I would have noticed.”

Her dancing eyes challenge me. I cup her hand, raise it to my lips for a kiss on her palm. She closes her fist as if to prevent something from escaping. “You certainly were aware that you had my full attention,” I say.

“Your attention is the finest of prizes.” She grazes the knuckles of her closed hand along my jaw all the way to my ear and tugs slightly on the lobe.

I'm quivering enough that I know she can feel it. “Then you must have missed me today.” I spent most of the day ensuring the celebrations around her return will be spectacular. She was never far from my mind.

“I always miss you when you're not here. Did you miss me?” She begins to float, rising up until her eyes are level with mine. Her fingers thread in my hair and tighten enough to angle my head back. I resist a little, drawing a sly grin from her. 

“It is my great privilege to miss you, and even more so, to be the man who comes home to make you smile again.”

Persephone's lips curve upwards until she can't contain it any longer. The laugh bursts out of her and she collapses against me, arms around my shoulders, helplessly giggling. “How long were you working on that one?”

“Purely a spontaneous effort, I assure you.” I'm a little flustered being caught like that, but Persephone's lips on mine go a long way to reassuring me that she doesn’t spurn my soppy words.

***

The last full day of Spring is bright and hot. Tomorrow we get to go home and only the ordeal of the festival stands in our way. We spend the morning packing up our clothes and personal items, and Persephone puts the finishing touches on her list of instructions for the caretakers who will maintain the house and garden until next Spring.

In the evening we witness the torchlight procession of mortals from Athens into the village of Eleusis, more of them than I would have believed. Sitting beside our little shrine at the base of the hill, Persephone hardly stops smiling at them. 

“So tell me again what they do in the village tonight?” I ask, just to get her attention again.

“It’s a big production, a lot like a play,” she says. “This is the essence of Iakchos’s idea. He thought it would be compelling to have a secretive initiation ritual, with the mortals drinking the new, improved  _ kykeon _ to help them attain a higher level of awareness. They’ll see a dramatic version of our story.”

“The mortals’ invented version, I assume.”

“Oh yes, the  _ fun _ version. I don’t think they even believe it, they just like telling it.” She rolls her eyes.

“And we don’t have any formal role until tomorrow?”

“That’s right. When they’ll all be pretty drunk and sleep deprived.”

The tail end of the procession passes us and continues toward the village. We don’t need to stay any longer.

I turn to Persephone and raise her hand to my lips. “In the meantime, Sweetness, perhaps you’d like to participate in a little reenactment of our own?”

“Literally nothing would make me happier. Are you going to summon a chariot with four black horses like in the story?”

“Nah, too showy. Do you know how much upkeep horses need?”

“Surely a history-making event such as my abduction deserves a little drama,” Persephone says. “Could you cackle wildly and throw me over your shoulder?”

I grin. “I can manage the cackling, but I think you wouldn’t like being over my shoulder right now.” I cup her belly to show what I mean. I’m going to enjoy playing this game, but I won’t let her be hurt.

“Then I'm going to kick and scream, you big scary beast.” She looks up at me through her eyelashes, barely able to control her giggles. 

“If you like.” I cast her my best scoundrel-y grin and let my eyes flash red. Her shiver of anticipation kindles a fire within me.

Persephone pretends to be sitting here on her own, arranges the skirts of her peplos in a fussy manner, and starts to talk to herself. “Oh dear, how lonely and bored I am. However shall I, an innocent flower goddess, pass my time?”

The last of the twilight is fading from the sky and the stars are emerging, hardly an appropriate time of day for her assumed persona to be out and about. I lean back on my elbows and try not to laugh while I wait for her to set the scene.

Persephone gets up and walks a few paces away, humming to herself. “Oh look, some lovely flowers! Guess I’ll pick them!” She feigns noticing the house on the hill for the first time. “I must not stray too close to that spooky castle. They say a wicked, lusty creature lives there!” Nevertheless, she goes after some flowers blooming a little farther up the hill and glances over her shoulder at me.

I recognize my cue. “Pretty goddess…” I hiss, low and menacing. “Pretty, naughty goddess encroaching on my territory. I must teach this one a lesson!”

I don’t make any effort to be silent as I approach, but Persephone ignores me, still humming. She bends down to pick a flower and deliberately wiggles her ass. I time it so I scoop her up just as she straightens and she makes a big show of surprise, squealing and flinging her bouquet up in the air so the petals rain down on us.

“Oh no, I’ve been captured! Whatever shall I do?” 

Her face is only a handspan from mine so I give her a wide leer. “You’re in my clutches now, lovely one! Struggle is useless!”

My words remind her of her role and she squirms against me, more sensuous than resistant. “O dreaded creature, I did not know you would be so handsome! Are you going to carry me off and ravish me?”

I start walking up the hill. “That’s the plan, radiant goddess. Unless you want to smite me first.”

“Oh…” She bites her lip and tilts her head as she considers. “You know, I think I’ll hold back on the smiting.” Her arm slides around my shoulder and she relaxes into my embrace. “At least until I find out just how beastly you can be.”

She giggles and then her teeth begin to skim my collarbone. My hand slips under the hem of her peplos, trailing upwards, gripping warm flesh. Persephone huffs in my ear, making me shiver. I reach the top of the hill and begin to trot. I wonder where to choose as an appropriate setting, but Persephone has already decided. 

“I can’t wait any longer,” she whispers. Then, in her louder, dramatic voice: “Take me no farther, creature! I demand it!”

I laugh, pushing it into a booming, sinister roar. “As you wish, little blossom. Once you have submitted to your lust you will be mine!” I carry her over to the side of the courtyard and push her up against the wall between two flowerbeds. She helps, loosening her peplos and pulling it up around her waist to give me space.

“Fiend! H-h-how dare you!” Her breath skips as my fingers find her wetness. “Oh! I feel so strange and warm all of a sudden!”

I let go of her enough to rearrange my own clothing. “Now listen, my captive. Do you want to go free? Run home with a story of the scary monster who taught you to do scandalous things in the dark? Or do you want to fulfill your dreams at long last?”

“If I agree, I must stay with you forever?” Her voice is soft and breathy with need. She gasps as my hand grips her hip firmly, angling her to grind against my bared erection. 

“That’s the deal, my blossom.”

Persephone’s face in the dark is barely more than a blur, but her voice leaves no doubt. “You’ve awoken a fearsome need in me, you terrible demon! Have your way with me, right here!”

I don’t need to be told twice.

***

When I wake on midsummer’s day, Persephone is already up and busy with preparations. In accordance with our plan, she sent the dogs home with her assistant. I find her out on the terrace, setting up breakfast. 

“Good morning!” she chirps when I step outside. “You look so handsome!”

I try not to scowl. I dressed in the chiton and himation chosen for me by the festival committee, but I’m not thrilled with it. I generally revel in my understated lord-of-darkness look, but the patterns of flames around my hem are a bit over the top. “I guess this outfit goes with the theme, doesn’t it? I’m to play the villain in this drama.”

Persephone slides into my arms and kisses me very gently. “This whole thing is a pageant and everyone knows that. After all, I’m not just some airhead flower maiden, right? But that’s my role.”

I nod and kiss her back. She’s right, and if she can be cheerful about her role, I can deal with mine. At least it has some scope for having fun. “You’re right. I’m sorry I’ve been grumpy.”

“I understand, Smush. I know you’re not wild about the ritual today. You’re not going to claim that I wore you out last night?”

I snort in amusement. She knows me so well. “That tactic did cross my mind, but I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

Her smile is ripe with suggestive intimation. “No, the empirical data would tend to demonstrate that we’re nowhere near your capacity.”

I try to accept my fate with as good a grace as I can muster, and sit down to enjoy the flatbread and omelet Persephone made. I know I have no grounds for complaint. If my wife needs this one service of me, it’s the least I can do to struggle through my discomfort. She’s literally altering the whole course of her life for my sake.

When we’re finished eating, Persephone changes into a new peplos of embroidered silk, with diamonds at her throat and flowers spilling from her hair. She drapes a long, sheer veil over the back of her head. We close up the house and walk to the village holding hands. There’s a little crowd of children waiting for us, all of them carrying baskets full of flowers. They strew our path with petals as we enter the village square. I decide Persephone must be right. Despite my melodramatic costume and just generally being me, the children aren’t at all afraid. They grin and caper and wave, totally at ease with both of us.

The pair of newly-completed temple buildings front the square, richly decorated with flowers and greenery. Standing before them are the priest and priestess, along with Demeter, Eiliethyia, Annona, Hermes, Hecate, and Iakchos. He steps forward, beaming at us. He’s crowned with a wreath of myrtle and holding a lit torch. 

“Welcome, god and goddess,” the violet god cries. “Your holy mystics have come to dance in this place for your gratification. O worthy mortals! Boldly stomp your feet in time to the wild rite, with full share of the Graces. The holy dance is sacred to your Patrons.”

He gestures with his torch to a pair of carved, backless chairs set side by side at the edge of the plaza. Persephone knows her cue. Smiling for me, Iakchos, and the crowd in general, she leads the way to our thrones and seats herself. I sit next to her and take her hand again. Eunelia and Serapis come forward with carefully measured steps, bow, and offer to us a pair of myrtle wreaths.

I think the crown of greens sitting on top of her veil suits Persephone better than it does me. From the love shining in her eyes, I guess that she disagrees. Her fingers squeeze mine fervently.

Iakchos clears his throat. “Shake the leafy crown, sound the horn, beat the drum! Initiates of the sacred mysteries, sing your joy for the lord and lady of the hour! O blessed mistress of Elysium, O dread lord  whose unstinting largesse has permitted the rekindling of all mortal life, witness now the culmination of the holy rites.”

A large troupe of young mortals files into the plaza and begins to dance, as enthusiastic if inexpert musicians strike up a tune. Across the plaza, Demeter takes a seat in a throne similar to ours. She is surrounded by a small group of minor deities and nymphs, though I’m certain she’d far rather be attended by Persephone. 

My wife may be thinking along the same lines. I follow the direction of her gaze and the mask of serenity descends to moderate her radiant joy. “Mother looks like she swallowed a lemon,” she says, softly pitched for my ear. 

“She’ll get used to it in time. At least she’s participating as expected.”

Iakchos, in his role of master of ceremonies, orders barrels of drink to be rolled out and broached for everyone’s enjoyment. The new beer is an important symbol, since it was made from barley harvested since Winter. I don’t really want it, but I accept a cup anyway on Persephone’s behalf. She takes the cup from me and pretends to drink, then gives it back. Across the plaza, Demeter seems more than happy to take her portion.

We pay attention to the dancing and singing for a while, until Persephone takes advantage of a break in the music to rise to her feet. All the chatter in the square ceases as the mortals notice her. 

“Good people,” she calls. “Mortalkind’s lot is to endure the gifts the gods give you, even when our gifts are barbed and laced with poison. During the recent cold season, many a plow was dragged over the fields by many an ox--all in vain. Many a bright grain of wheat fell to the Earth--all for naught. Harsh hunger, cold, and deprivation reigned supreme.”

“But you returned to us, bright lady,” calls Eunelia. The high priestess steps out from the crowd to face her patroness. 

“At great personal cost, I returned,” Persephone agrees. “The Earth blossomed with fragrant flowers of every sort, because I came forth from the seat of my joy, the misty realms to which every mortal must someday journey. My husband generously assented to yield me from the Underworld each time the season of Spring comes round. I shall spend that portion of the year away from the home of my heart.”

It’s Demeter’s turn next. She rises slowly to her feet. “Upon my child’s return, the Earth began straightaway to flourish with long ears of grain as the springtime increased its power. On the field, the fertile furrows began to overflow with cut-down ears of grain lying on the ground, while mortalkind labored to bind the grain into sheaves.”

Iakchos stands forth. “Straightaway the goddesses sent up the harvest from the land with its rich clods of soil. All the wide Earth with leaves and blossoms was laden. Yet, goddess, cease your loud lament and keep not vain anger unrelentingly.”

Anonna also gets a speaking part, in her role as Goddess of Plenty. “Advance, mortalkind, march on with jests, and songs, and dance. You have feasted well this night, and shall gain for yourselves a bountiful harvest. Raise your hearts and voices in praise for the goddess and god who vow to protect your people to the endless days.”

The watching crowd bursts out with cheers and heartfelt shouts of praise. Persephone takes my hand and we move through the crowd, smiling and greeting all and sundry. As predicted, the mortals are exceedingly merry from drinking and celebrating all night. They watch blearily as we tour the village. Persephone is glowing with happiness and the knowledge that her work has brought the mortal race back from the very brink of doom. They’re alive now because of her.

She gives blessings to everyone who asks. At first it’s just children bold enough to make the request, but soon young women preparing for marriage come forward, and women wanting to have children. It’s not long before all of them step up, shyly asking for her favor. 

I wait patiently, both because I’m not eager for what comes next, and because I’m deeply pleased to see Persephone receive so many accolades. When an ancient man totters up to me and taps his cane for my attention, I’m startled. 

“Dread lord,” he growls. “I desire your blessing.”

This is unprecedented. He knows who I am, it’s clear from his mode of address. The man is old but seems to be in his right mind. “You believe you will journey soon to my realm, mortal man?”

“I do, my lord. A man as old as I knows his limits.”

“Then you are requesting an easy death?”

“No, Unseen One, I would not presume so. I ask you to stay your hand from my son and daughter. I wish them to enjoy long lives such as I have had.”

He seems so sincere and so full of love for his children, I decide to grant his request. “Most favored of mortals, he who has had the good fortune of health, my blessings upon you. Long life to you, long life to all your household.”

The old man gives a delighted cackle and thumps his cane once more. “Thank you, great lord. You are generous indeed with your wealth.”

***

The inevitable moment arrives as it must. Iakchos cries once more from the village square. 

“Lead the youthful chorus to the flowery plain! All evil thoughts and profane be still, far hence from our choirs depart. Who knows not well what the mystics whisper, or is not holy and pure of heart--I charge them once, I charge them twice, I charge them thrice, that they draw not nigh to the sacred dance of the initiates. But you, my comrades, awoke the song, the night-long revels of joy and mirth. Summon the god of the hour with your songs, the partner of his dance is ours. Follow us hence, god and goddess, and show us how you travel the long road with ease.”

I hold my arm out to the side and Persephone rests her hand in mine. The raucous procession heads out into the countryside, and we follow the dancing youths. They’re playing instruments and singing, obviously enjoying themselves. I have to grit my teeth so I don't snap at them. 

I’m trying not to project the anxiety I feel. My jaw is so stiff with tension, it’s as if my teeth have fused together. Persephone is aglow with joy on this day, and she’s generating butterflies and petals, smiling at everyone, me included. She insisted that I had to be an important part of this pageant. My role isn’t blessing the mortals or receiving their worship or anything dignified like that. Or, in a way, it is--but the procedure of the blessing is well outside my comfort zone.

I have to have sex with my wife. My sweet, beautiful, pregnant, fertility goddess wife. My bountiful Persephone. That task wouldn’t be any sort of a chore if it were not for the required location. In an open field, of all places!

“You’re sure it has to be  _ right _ out in the middle of a big open field?” I ask. Not for the first time.

“Yes. Gaia told me.” Persephone’s tone of patience is unaltered. She’s a little smug and a little triumphant as she leads me to the chosen place, out to the West of the village. When we arrive, the parade of watchers stops at the border, still making their raucous clamor. They watch as we enter the plowed part of the field, stepping over furrows of turned soil. 

“The things I do for you!” I grumble.

Persephone knows I’m teasing, from my tone. She gives me a little smirk and a pointed look. “My poor Smush, you suffer so.”

It’s a huge field and we walk slowly. Persephone explains that it’s been plowed three times since Winter, but left fallow since then. She sought out this particular field to meet Gaia’s exact specifications. 

When we reach the center, Persephone’s hand tightens in mine and we stop. I look around. There are people--mostly mortals--all around the edges, watching us avidly, but I admit they’re a fair distance away. Still, I am  _ not _ happy about this.

I feel the tickle of Persephone’s power flowing and a slight tremble in the ground. Sturdy vines shoot out of the plowed Earth in a wide circle around us, growing straight up until they begin to curve at a height above my head, then meet over the center point to form a trellised dome. As I watch, the vines bud large leaves and flowers, overlapping until the dome shelters us not just from the view of our audience but even from Helios’s rays. 

I breathe a soft sigh, releasing my tension. I should have known that Persephone hadn’t turned into an exhibitionist out of nowhere!

“I am so relieved,” I tell her. “I was honestly worried I might get performance anxiety. What with the audience.”

Persephone smiles. “Why should they get a free show? It’s enough for them to know what we’re doing for their sake.”

She steps out of her peplos and hangs it from a convenient bough. Turning to stand before me, her lovely pink skin shines in the dappled sunlight. Her perfect breasts are even fuller than they once were, the nipples darker. The rounded curve of her belly draws my eye. Her pregnancy isn’t very noticeable when she’s dressed, as the pleated drapes of a peplos hide a great deal. Naked, though, it’s obvious.

“You are so gorgeous.”

It wasn’t even that long ago that she was tremendously shy, but now she poses for me, enjoying my eyes on her. “And what about you, dearest husband?”

I’m quite happy to remove my ridiculous outfit, or at least I am now that we have relative privacy. I drape my things over a branch and turn back. “How do you want to do this? Standing, I guess?”

She takes a few steps toward me. “No, Hades. We need to get down in the dirt.”

“Oh.” Of course we do. The whole point being to bless the fields and bring the gift of fertility. 

Persephone drops to her knees in a soft hummock of soil. “Come here, lover.” She crooks her finger, and I move as if jerked by ropes. Butterflies, pink and blue and silver, flutter around her, circling us both in a dizzying display. 

I stop just within Persephone’s reach. Her fingertips brush my flanks with the lightest of touches and my breath stutters. There's no concealing how much I want her, despite the setting. She's radiant and simply blooming with energy and passion. I couldn't contain my arousal if I tried. Her hands on my hips tug gently, enticing me into taking another step forward, and she bends her neck to take the head of my cock into her velvety mouth. 

“Ah,  _ oh _ …” I sigh deeply in enjoyment. “Shouldn’t it be me serving you today, Kore?”

She smiles around me, a delightful sensation, but her only answer is the clasp of her pillowy lips and the ministrations of her deft tongue. I said when I agreed to this ritual that I would do whatever Persephone wants, and it’s obvious that what she wants for now is to give me pleasure. I’m sure my turn will be soon.

Her hands grip my ass and her hair tickles my knees. My cock glides smoothly on her tongue, surrounded by the firm embrace of her lips, and I can't help making short thrusts. She moans softly, the vibration giving me shivers. I glance at her for a few moments, but I can’t watch continuously or I’ll lose control. I need to close my eyes to think about tax law revisions and marketing statistics. I’m determined that Persephone is in complete control today and will get exactly what she wants.

After a few minutes she releases me from her mouth with a soft, moist pop and uses her hand in its place, sliding up and down, with special attention to the engorged head. “Feel like getting down here in the dirt with me?” 

“ _ Yes! _ Yours to command, little goddess.”

I sit and then lie down on my back, helping her get into the position she wants. My head is between her thighs as she lies on my belly and resumes her former occupation. A small moan escapes me before my own tongue sets to work. With my nose pressed right against the source of her nectar I’m immersed in Persephone. Everything I can see is pink and the taste of her fills my mouth. I lap hard at her clit and use my hands to good effect, stroking her, praising her, preparing her for what I know she wants next. I’m almost able to ignore the skittering thrills that light up my nerve endings as she sucks my cock in long strokes, occasionally taking me all the way into her throat for a few moments. 

I’m impressed with her focused determination to drive me out of my mind, but I can’t concentrate on that. Instead I focus on the tiny seat of her pleasure, the swollen nub now standing defiantly free of its protective hood. I capture it between my lips, stab with my tongue, work it hard. Persephone’s squeals make me vibrate in turn, setting my hips squirming in the dirt, vainly trying to escape the rapid buildup of stimulation.

We torment and provoke one another thus for a while, neither of us willing to yield to the other’s skill, to admit we’re getting far closer to a rapid culmination than we ought to. Persephone is in charge here. Until she decides otherwise, my job is simple: keep her simmering. If she wants to make me insane with her mouth, that’s her privilege.

Over the past year Persephone has been an attentive partner, learning rapidly what she can do to compel response from me. Today she’s able to keep me balanced on the knife edge of pleasure for far longer than I thought possible. Somehow, she can read my every tell: knowing when to back off, and when to take me deep and do that thing where she flutters her tongue faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

It’s just when I think I can’t take any more that she releases me and sits up, squirming forward on my chest. I help her lift her legs over my arms and watch her gorgeous, supple ass as she drags her body down mine, shamelessly rubbing her damp heat over my chest and belly. She’s panting as she lifts herself up, crouching over me, and I have a perfect view as the sweet pink folds of her entrance slowly engulf the head of my cock.

Poised there, she braces her hands on my knees and rotates her hips, making me groan. It’s an incredible sensation: her slick, hot passage twisting around me. I’m aching to be completely surrounded by her body, to thrust and pound her, feel her jiggling flesh slap mine, but the anticipation will make the reward that much sweeter. I hold as still as I can, stifle my groans, and watch.

Seeing this and feeling it, letting her do all the work, I feel both guilty and incredibly fortunate. Persephone begins to move up and down, taking more of my cock into her with each movement. I make a strangled noise. In this position the fit is very tight. She settles down into my lap, taking me all the way in, and places her knees firmly in the dirt on either side of my hips. My wife then proceeds to move in such a way that I lose all grip on coherent thought. 

Her legs are short enough that she doesn’t have a lot of range of motion, but she makes the limitation work for her. Does she ever! I am her thrall, her plaything. I long to take a more active part, but this is her show. Watching her ass move like that while she undulates on my cock is enough to drive me wild.

She glances over her shoulder at me, her eyes crinkled and her lips parted in a wicked little smile. “I can't quite get enough leverage like this!”

I take this for a request. I sit up and lift her, then pull my legs out from under her. Crouching on my knees behind Persephone, I trail sloppy kisses over her shoulder and neck as my cock eagerly seeks its warm haven. “Better?” I ask as I enter her once more.

“Hnnng…” she groans. “Yes, oh!” Her shoulders sink down as she places her forearms on the ground for better support against my thrusts.

For some minutes we lose ourselves in sensation. I cling to Persephone and try not to make too much noise while she squeaks and clutches around me.

“I’m getting very close,” I pant. “Is this how you want it, Sweetness?”

Persephone pushes herself up from the ground, groaning softly. “No.” She gives me a little push with her foot so I pull back enough to give her room to roll. Lying on her back in the damp soil, the bosom of the Earth, she smiles up at me. “Come to me, husband. Give me what I need.”

She’s exquisite. Her pink skin glows against the dark ground, unmarred by rolling around in the actual dirt. A rich scent rises from that piquant flower between her exquisite thighs. I’d like to hold still and admire her for hours but the sharp edge of my lust spurs me on. I lower my body to cover hers and sheathe my cock from tip to root in Persephone’s hot core. 

Up to now she’s been very restrained, restricting herself to pants and sighs and soft moans, but when I hilt in her she gives a sharp, delightful cry. Her nails dig into my shoulders, urging me on.

There in the dirt we reenact the essential act of creation as performed by Gaia and Ouranos. Persephone gazes skyward at me, her eyes soft and tender, her hand cupping my cheek. I look Earthward at her, small body framed and pent and entered by mine. Yet it is she who holds me in the center of her power, unable and unwilling to pause in my service. 

I am the luckiest of gods. 

She’s so beautiful, so full of sweet emotion, so warm and soft and delectable, that holding back any longer is beyond my ability. My hips snap, stirring an urgent ache deep inside me, awakening a tight shudder in my partner. I’m approaching my peak, the inexorable demand propelling me to a rhythm that makes Persephone’s eyes wide and her voice exultant.

“Yes, now!” she cries. “Now, please Hades!”

The luscious caress of her slippery channel, pulsing and quivering as she comes, is more than enough to drive me over the brink. I groan loudly and clutch Persephone to my chest, our lips crashing together in frantic, sucking kisses.

I have just enough presence of mind to keep my weight on my knees and forearms, but Persephone clutches me tight with all her limbs and kisses me again and again. Both of us are spouting incoherent words full of love and admiration. We’re filthy and sweaty and there are still hundreds of people waiting for us, and none of it matters. I nearly lost this wonderful goddess to forces beyond our control, but she is mine, and I am hers. 

It’s a few more minutes before we catch our breath and get a handle on our emotions. I help Persephone to her feet. She’s a little wobbly in the knees, but full of bliss. We brush the dirt from one another, unable to contain our bubbling laughter, and get dressed again.

When Persephone releases our screening dome of vines, we find that the entire field is covered in vegetation. The waiting crowd begins to cheer, hopping up and down and clapping with their elation. We have to choose our path carefully to navigate back to the edge of the field. 

Along the way I spot all kinds of flowers: crocus, iris, and hyacinth, rosebuds and lilies. A little farther is a row of grapevines, growing rampant and already beginning to bud. I know it would normally take a new vineyard several years to bear fruit.

We arrive at the edge of the field, and Persephone’s priestess Eunelia drops to her knees. “It is a wonder to behold, illustrious goddess! Your people weep with gratitude for the gift of fertility. A bountiful harvest is sure to bless us before the depredations of the cold season begin once more!”

Several other people--deities, nymphs, and mortals alike--crowd around Persephone, offering her praise and congratulations. I feel like grumbling that she didn’t achieve all this on her own, but I’m not all that eager to have my part acknowledged, either. I jump slightly when I feel a hand clap my back and turn to deal with the intruder in an irritated mood.

Eros is grinning right in my face, and draws back his hand to give me a big thumbs-up. 

“What are you doing here, Eros?” My tone is more bewildered than annoyed. 

“Are you kidding? I had to come see  _ this! _ ”

“Despite not being invited.” I’m a little embarrassed over the circumstances, though if I’m honest I’m also just about bursting with pride. Because Persephone picked me, and our efforts have caused such excitement in everyone.

“Buddy! Pal! Great Uncle! You had it in you to participate in a fertility ritual! I’m so proud of you!”

“You think you’ve cornered the market on sex? Get over yourself.”

He laughs merrily. “You’re not fooling me, you know,” he says, his voice low. “But I won’t tell.”

I assume that means he’s aware of my self-satisfaction. It doesn’t matter. The fact that a love god is happy on my behalf is a strange feeling when compared to my life before Persephone, but one I want to get accustomed to. I’m about to tell him so when I notice Demeter approaching Persephone. 

I shut my mouth and Eros turns to see what attracted my attention. We exchange a tiny glance of apprehension. This is the moment when the protective mother has to release her precious child. Let Persephone go to the Underworld for many long months before she returns to restore life to the Winter-burdened Mortal Realm.

Demeter stops and Persephone notices, turning from her fawning admirers to face her mother. The elder goddess’s lips are twitching and her eyes are full of anxiety. Persephone smiles and steps into her embrace without hesitation. 

The generous, open affection of her daughter, the obvious joy in Persephone’s expression, and the smiling approval of the watching crowd seem to firm Demeter’s resolve. “I hope to see you very soon, little bean,” she says.

“Of course Mama, I’m looking forward to it,” Persephone replies. “You will always be a welcome guest in my home.” She places the faintest emphasis on  _ guest _ , perhaps to underscore the sacred obligations of both guest and host. “I hope you’ll bring me grapes when they’re in season. I have a craving for them.”

They both smile as if at some private joke. Demeter hugs her once more and then steps back, giving me a stern glare. “You will see that she is well cared for,” she says. Not a question, or a request. An order.

“I will.” I don’t normally take orders well, but in this case, I can’t grudge it.

Persephone gives a little smirk at this exchange and takes my hand. “Shall we go home, Hades?” 

We’re ready to go a little earlier than I expected, but I have a plan for taking up time. I lean down to murmur in her ear. “Are you willing to indulge me a little before we go home?”

She grins. “Of course, Smush. It’s only fair after you were such a good sport.”

***

We emerge from the Narrow Spaces in a sheltered saddle high in the mountains. It’s sunny here, and not quite cold, but if the breeze gets stronger it will be. It’s familiar but also very different from when I was last here. Instead of a tower, there’s only a remnant of dressed stones marking the circular foundation of where it once stood.

“This is the place the  _ anemoi _ took you,” I tell Persephone. “Where I found you sleeping. There was a tower right here.”

She looks at the stones and squeezes my hand. “I have vague memories of cold and wind, and glimpses out a stone window of the mountains. But mostly I remember asking for you, over and over again.”

“You have no memory of my coming to this place?”

Persephone thinks about that. “I think I remember shouting...I’m not sure. And Cerberus. Was he here?”

“Yes, he was.”

She nods. “Mostly I remember waking up with you and being overjoyed.”

“When I took you home, I was beyond exhausted. I felt like the lowest creature imaginable for claiming you in marriage without your knowledge, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

Persephone shrugs and smiles. “I don’t care how it came about, I’m thrilled to be your wife.”

I release some tension with a small sigh. “I was afraid when you left for the Mortal Realm that you’d never want to come back. Not to live. I thought maybe the sunlight and flowers would lure you away.”

“That could never happen, Hades. I love you!”

“No, I don’t mean that you’d leave me. I know how you feel, and how I feel. I just thought you’d decide the Underworld is not for you, after all.”

She nods slowly, working through my implications. “I’ve realized being here that I’ll always have a connection to the Mortal Realm. I have work to do, and an important responsibility. But I don’t want to live here.”

“Really?”

“I’m so excited to go home, I can’t even tell you. I want to be where it’s cool and I can wear my nice coats, and where snuggling makes me feel warm and cozy instead of sticky and sweaty. I want to have nice, crackling fires and hot drinks. I want to go into the office and get work done. I want to be in the city, and work on Elysium again. I want to be with you.”

“Oh, Sweetness. It means so much to me to hear that from you.”

She pulls me close and gives me a sweet kiss. “You’re not totally wrong that I missed being in the Mortal Realm, creating and bringing life. It was two years for me, and that’s too long.”

“But being here for just your season is enough?”

“Yes. I’m dying to go home now.”

I grin. “Then let’s go.”

We transfer once again, rematerializing in our own home in the Underworld, by the side of the pool where we met. One of the times when we met. The first time neither of us was drunk, at least. Cerberus is waiting for us, and gives a happy  _ wuff  _ on seeing Persephone.

“Welcome home, little goddess,” I say.

She leaps into my arms and plants her lips on mine. “I love you so much, you big sentimental softy. You’re going to make me cry!”

I place tiny kisses at the outer corners of her eyes. “I’ll take the consequences, but I must tell you how much I love you, Persephone.”

Her arms twine around my neck and we hold each other tightly, shaking a little with the force of emotion. Persephone sniffles into my shoulder. “I love you too, Hades. I will love you forever.”

“I’m so glad you’re home. I’m so glad you  _ want _ to be home, with me.”

She squeezes me hard and kisses me. “I need a bath. I’ve got dirt ground into my knees and I’ll bet you do, too.”

I’ve got more in the crack of my ass, though I don’t say so. “You did your work well, so you know it’s true.”

She laughs and tugs on my hand. “Let’s get cleaned up, then.”

***

We have a schedule to keep, so we don’t get much time to dally in our bath. I don’t really mind. The next few days will be taken up with a number of public events welcoming Persephone home, but today is reserved for those things that will most delight her. We’ll have time after the celebrations, and every day after that. Time to watch Persephone’s belly grow round with our baby, time to enjoy one another’s company. 

In the dressing room, getting ready, I feel like everything is going back to normal. I turn from the mirror, fiddling with my cufflink, to ask Persephone a question. She’s fastening a sheer black stocking to her black garter belt. Besides that she’s wearing a black, lacy bra and panties. Her shoes sit nearby, ready for her feet. They’re black and shiny, with very high heels.

I groan. “Are you trying to render me insensate, woman?”

Persephone grins at me as she steps into a dress and pulls it up. She turns her back to me. “Zip me up?”

I step forward to do so. My eye is helplessly drawn down the curve of her spine to ogle the roundness of her bottom. I haven’t seen her in modern clothes for so long, and the sight is really doing something for me.

She looks over her shoulder, smiling gently and blushing just a little. She knows exactly what I like. The view from the front when she turns is equally pleasant. Her belly pushes out the stretchy fabric, showing off her pregnancy. I grin widely as she touches the pink pocket square I’m wearing as a tiny tribute to her.

“So handsome!” she says. “I love you in a suit.”

“Me? I just threw this old thing on, but you look  _ fantastic. _ ”

“If you’ll help me with my necklace, I’ll turn my back again.”

“Am I that obvious?”

She giggles. “I’m not complaining.”

Handing me her Pomelia pendant, she turns her back once again. I fasten it before exacting a toll in the form of a kiss behind her ear. 

I watch her while she finishes getting ready. She’s in no particular hurry, and seems to be enjoying being back in our home and putting on her stylish things again. Peering into the mirror, she checks her hair and makeup, and apparently decides she lacks something. She rummages in a drawer and finds the diamond comb I gave her. My heart skips a beat seeing her put that in her hair, since I understand the feelings behind it. She seems pleased with the effect, and slips on Athena’s cloak and a pair of black gloves to complete her outfit.

As we step out into the bedroom, I put my hand on Persephone’s elbow to stop her. “There’s something I want to show you before we go.” There’s a new electrical switch on the wall. I point to it and note Persephone’s perplexed expression before I flip it on. Behind the bed, the entire wall lights up with colorful moving dots that seem to flow downwards. 

Persephone gasps. “Like a waterfall! Is this Psyche’s work?”

I’m not surprised that she guessed. “Yes, it is. Here, you can get different effects with it.” I hand her the remote that controls the colors and speed.

She plays with it for a couple of minutes, smiling with happiness. “It’s so beautiful, like diamonds trickling down the wall. Thank you so much, Smush! It’s so thoughtful of you!” Her kiss is deep and intense, leaving me in no doubt that she’s pleased by my surprise. “Maybe we can leave it on when we go to bed,” she whispers, before kissing me again.

“You have such creative ideas!” I set her down on her feet. “We really need to get going if we’re not going to be late.”

“Wait, come back! I got lipstick all over you.”

“Oh, how tragic. I wouldn't want everyone to know that I belong to you.”

She rubs her thumb over my lips. “I'll put some more marks on you, later.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely.”

***

I show Persephone out to the car, choosing the convertible on purpose, for visibility. After she takes her seat, Cerberus follows, leaping into the back. Driving off to the city with my wife by my side for the first time in months, I can’t conceal my grin. Persephone picks up her purse and rummages for a moment, coming up with a pair of sunglasses, the ones that match mine. She puts these on and sticks her tongue out at me. 

We’re still laughing about it when we pull up outside headquarters. The plaza is absolutely packed with cheering people, far more than I expected. It’s as if the entire population of the Underworld has turned out to welcome our Queen back home. Persephone shakes the hand of everyone who offers, and hugs a few people as well. Hecate, the Furies, and her assistant receive her most enthusiastic greetings, even though she’s seen all of them recently in the Mortal Realm. I guess it’s pleasant seeing friends back in their proper context.

It’s more than an hour before we can pry ourselves away from the eager public. Persephone gives me a speculative look when I lead her to Tower Two instead of Tower One, but by the time we’re in the elevator she’s figured it out.

“Good idea, Smush. I’m eager to check on Elysium.”

“I knew you would be, Kore. I saw it a few days ago and I think you’ll be pleased.”

It’s always a dramatic moment when the heavy doors to Persephone’s dominion slide open to reveal the unexpectedly huge space beyond. It makes my heart beat faster every time I see it, and today is no exception. Persephone’s hand slips into mine--she’s looking at me rather than her special place.

“Don’t you want to see it? After three months?” I ask.

“Yes. But I love seeing your reaction just as much.”

The glow in her eyes makes me smile. I watch while she turns to inspect Elysium. It isn’t the same as it was when she first showed it to me. Over the Winter all the land available was plowed and planted with food crops in order to provide for the mortal population. Persephone left detailed instructions for its restoration when she went away, and those were followed to the best of the workers’ abilities. I’m more than happy to pour money into this project--it’s the jewel of our realm, besides being my wife’s masterpiece. Despite everyone’s efforts, the restoration is still a work in progress, awaiting the touch of its mistress’s power to bring it to full fruition. 

She smiles and nods, her sharp eyes evaluating, picking out details that evade me. “It’s almost as it should be,” she says. “The trees need maturing, I can see, but that's not so much.”

“I’m told the animals have all been brought back and of course the shades have long since returned.”

“I felt terrible borrowing their place.”

“For the benefit of their descendants, I don’t think they mind.”

“Good.”

“Shall we go see your waterfall?”

We hold hands and take the time to walk, enjoying the views, the birdsong, the cool shade of the forest. Most of all, we’re savoring one another’s company. Emerging from the trees, we get our first view of the waterfall. It always touches me deeply to recall that Persephone made this beautiful heart of Elysium specifically to please me. 

“I can never see this place without feeling your love,” I tell her.

Her eyes shine with happy tears. “That’s exactly what it’s for!”

Down by the pool at the bottom of the waterfall, Persephone squeals in surprise. There’s a table and chairs set up there, and a basket of food waiting for us.

“What, you didn’t expect this?” I ask, grinning. 

She pulls me in for a kiss, and I can feel her quivering with emotion: laughter and tears intermixed. It does not escape my notice that Persephone’s planned activity for today involved public sex, and while mine is a very private picnic. 

“You plan the best surprises, Smush,” she whispers.

“I hate that you had to leave on your birthday. I wanted to have something like a party, to welcome you back.” I ordered cupcakes for the picnic basket, specifically to create that sort of celebratory feeling.

Persephone beams. “This is much better than any birthday I’ve ever had. You’re the best gift I ever received.”

I take my hand from my pocket and show Persephone what is resting in my palm: Ione’s Eye. The small piece of basalt with an off-center hole that she called her good luck charm, but meant as an expression of--well, friendship, at a minimum.

“Do you remember the day you gave this to me?” I ask.

“Of course I do!” She reaches up to brush her fingers over my cheek. “You looked so sad. I would have done anything to cheer you up.”

“I was sad mostly because I knew how badly I was screwing everything up with you. I thought there was no possible way we could ever be together, and I found that idea intolerable.” I let my thumb stroke the smooth, black rock. I have carried it in my pockets for over a year now, a strange and enigmatic love token, but a love token nevertheless. 

“I wish I had known that,” Persephone says. Her small hands cup mine and she kisses my fingers. “What I really wanted to give you that day was my heart.”

I release a deep, contented sigh. “But don’t you know? You did.”

“I did? By giving you a rock?”

“You gave me something deeply personal to you, and you kept insisting on giving it back to me. You gave me hope that you might truly care for me.”

Persephone takes my face between both her hands and slowly floats up until she presses her forehead to mine. The roar of the waterfall is loud enough that it nearly overpowers her soft words. “I am exactly where I want to be. In this place I created, with your help, in the midst of the realm you created. That is where I belong. Where I will  _ always _ belong.”

“Oh, Kore. I love you so, and I love this place you made. You took the Underworld, as cold and dark as it was, and gave it life, just as you did for me.”

She’s smiling when she kisses me, her lips soft and trembling ever so slightly. “You gave me a life, one far beyond the small one I was destined for. If I gave you a gift, you gave one to me as well.”

“And now we have eternity to see what we can build together.” I pull her so close to me that I can feel the small, firm swell of her belly, the reminder of what we have already created.

“I can’t wait. I love you, Hades. It's  _ so _ good to be home!”

**Author's Note:**

> Quotations/references from the Homeric Hymn to Demeter and “The Frogs” by Aristophanes.
> 
> I’m sure some of you are upset that I’m saying Talisman is over, when the baby isn’t even born yet! Sorry. It’s just that the main conflict is complete, so this is the proper time for The End. However, I wouldn’t really leave you hanging. There are epilogues--fluffy, fluffy epilogues--several of them. 
> 
> I owe a huge debt to Red for her painstaking beta work through more than fifty stories, despite hell and high water. I don’t know what I’d do without you!
> 
> This work is dedicated to her, and also to my partners in crime artdork1, daalex, EllisEmme_Writes, porkiswayne, RoselessThorn, scholarlydragon, Spooks_on_Parade, and VesperNights. I wouldn’t have made it without you all!
> 
> Follow @VerdiWithin on Twitter for previews and updates.
> 
> My next LO fanfic is coming soon. Very soon.


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